by Lisa Morton
“I’m going to kill you, Asmodeus! Are you such a coward that you can only let your underlings face me?! You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to William, you monster—!”
She broke off at the sound of laughter and applause.
It was coming from behind her. She spun about, but saw only the walls of the room, decorated in tastefully-understated wallpaper and molding. She approached one of the walls, and there was no question that the sounds were coming from behind it. She reached a hand out to touch the wall—
–and her hand went through it.
Illusion, like the false path in the graveyard.
She stepped through, and found herself facing a large stone room. Twenty feet away was a dais, holding a single carved and bejewelled chair.
A throne. And seated upon it was Asmodeus.
He was the source of the mirth, although he was joined by Hob, who watched from his position just behind the throne. Past them Diana glimpsed an opening onto an outside terrace or balcony.
Asmodeus stood, mocking her with a bow, and she had to admit he was an impressive being: Fully eight feet tall, with a broad, ovine face, long ivory horns, gold armor, and black cloak; he also possessed a rumbling basso voice that she could feel in her solar plexus.
“Asmodeus, I presume?”
Hob frowned and stepped forward to correct her. “Lord Asmodeus—”
The demon prince held up a hand, and Hob stepped obediently back. Asmodeus watched her with completely black eyes—no trace of iris or white—and they never left Diana. “Really very impressive, my dear. That’s two challenges now I didn’t expect you to survive.”
Diana stood her ground, locking her gaze to his. “I’m happy to thwart your expectations.”
“No doubt. Unfortunately—as entertaining as I find this—the game is nearly at an end. You see, I have a world to conquer, and since I won’t be able to turn you to my own ends as I’d hoped, I’m forced to dispense with you instead.”
Kill him, Diana. Kill him now.
Diana stiffened, feeling Stephen’s presence stir to life within her. His whispered command was as clear as if he knelt at her feet; at first she wondered if Asmodeus had heard it as well, but one look at the lord’s perplexed expression assured her that he hadn’t.
“Is something the matter, Lady Furnaval? Surely you knew I’d kill you eventually.”
Diana forced herself to relax, not wanting to reveal the secret of her unguessed companion. “I was hoping you’d answer a few questions first.”
No, Diana, don’t. Kill him NOW. While you have this chance.
No, she argued back, I want answers first.
Asmodeus threw his head back, roaring laughter, before asking: “Why should I?”
“Because you won’t be able to gloat after I’m dead.”
That brought fresh guffaws from the demon lord, and then he sank back onto his throne. “I suppose it does add only a few more moments to your existence. Very well: You have three questions, then your life ends. Choose carefully.”
She didn’t have to consider long; two questions had nagged her for a very long time, and the third required a more immediate resolution: “What about Yi-kin?”
Asmodeus exchanged a brief glance with Hob, who nodded his head in the direction of the room Diana had just escaped. “Your friend is enduring his own challenge in another room right now. I understand he’s still alive…presently.”
Diana absorbed that information, and realized it meant she needed to move quickly. “Thank you. My second question: Why invade our world?”
“Ahh, there it is!” Asmodeus exclaimed happily. “This answer will no doubt shock you, my dear: Yes, I plan to utterly lay waste to your world, but beyond that—I simply do not care about it.”
Diana gaped for a moment, then managed a shocked, “What…?”
Asmodeus smiled, enjoying her confusion, then continued: “Your world means nothing to me—it’s merely a strategic foundation, a launching point from which the final battle will begin.”
He hesitated, waiting to see if she’d come up with the answer on her own.
She did, and felt a chill course through her.
“You mean to assault Stephen Chappell’s realm….”
“Of course. I will put an end to this ridiculous struggle between good and evil once and for all. Now, one more question and then I end your life.”
Don’t ask it, Diana. NOW….
She did move a hand to the holstered pistol…but rested it there, waiting. She would ask her last question.
“Why did it take you this long to begin the attack on the forces of good?”
Asmodeus and Hob both giggled.
Then, Asmodeus said, “Oh, I am glad that was your last question, because I think you’ll very much enjoy the answer: For centuries the gateways were carefully guarded, and only a few of our ilk ever managed to cross over. The guardians were powerful and talented, and we spent many centuries trying to find ways to destroy them, all to no avail. Until, that is, your own representatives of the forces of good did it for us.”
Diana thought furiously, but couldn’t guess the meaning of his words. “I don’t understand….”
“The guardians were women, an ancient order of nature worshippers.”
The answer began to form in Diana’s mind. “Witches….”
The demon nodded. “Witches. And your church—the purveyors of goodness and morality—created an inquisition that sought them out and destroyed them. Where we’d been unable to slay more than a handful of these sentries, the church burned, drowned and tortured them to death by the thousands, and opened the gateways for us. I’ve been assembling my forces ever since.”
Asmodeus eyed her for a moment, evidently enjoying watching the realizations and emotions that raced across her features; then he stood and gestured to the opening behind him. “Come—there’s something I’d like you to see. As your last sight.”
She hesitated, but Hob backed away submissively and Asmodeus stepped through, motioning her forward again. “You have one more moment of life, I assure you.”
She strode forward, onto the dais, around the throne, and then through the opening and out onto a balcony.
She saw immediately that the balcony was set perhaps fifty yards above a vast open plain, illuminated by the great moon—
—and that plain held Asmodeus’s army.
It stretched into the distance in every direction as far as Diana could see. Hundreds of thousands, probably millions, of monstrosities waited down there. She saw the moonlight glint off armor and weapons, she heard roars and screeches and loud booms as the strange weapons were discharged in practice. Although they were perched too great a height to make out the features of individual soldiers, she knew that some were too tall or too broad or moved too strangely to be anything even remotely human.
She had no doubt that this army would easily overwhelm her own world. And possibly the heavenly realm, as well.
“Glorious, isn’t it,” the demon lord and general murmured at her shoulder. “At my command, they will begin to cross over, through whatever gateways you’ve left us. At least no more will be closed now.”
Now I’ll kill him, she thought.
She backed away, off the balcony, giving herself enough room to draw her pistol. Asmodeus saw it, and merriment burst from him again. “I anticipated you would try to fight me before I ripped you limb from limb, although I admit I’m somewhat—underwhelmed.”
Diana backed all the way off the dais, keeping one eye on Asmodeus and the other on Hob—and her passage was abruptly stopped by the illusory wall, now become quite real.
Asmodeus, slowly edging towards her, savoring, saw the action and offered her an expression of mocking sadness. “Oh, I’m afraid there’s no running, either.”
Diana pulled the trigger.
The bullet slammed into Asmodeus’s neck.
He smiled, plucked it from his skin and dropped it.
It’s a revolver, we
only loaded one chamber with the proper bullet, she heard, and she wasn’t sure if it was her own voice or Stephen’s now.
She pulled the trigger again. It hit the demon’s head. After a second, he spat the bullet out. “Oh, please do try again.”
She did. This bullet ricocheted from his chest plate.
Asmodeus was three feet away.
She jerked the trigger again. Another ricochet.
Asmodeus was reaching for her.
She forced it again. The bullet passed completely through his outstretched hand. Then he took the barrel of the gun, holding it almost tenderly, looking down at her with paternal disappointment.
She squeezed the trigger, knowing it was the last bullet.
The gun exploded, and Asmodeus suddenly fell back, roaring, clutching at an impossibly huge hole that had appeared in his torso, his golden armor blasted into pieces. A stream of liquid darkness, an anti-light, gushed from the hole as Asmodeus clutched in vain at his fatal wound.
Time suddenly seemed to cease: In the instant that Diana saw Asmodeus topple in ruin, Hob rushing in panic to his lord’s side, she was suddenly flooded with a sensation of ancient energy unlike anything she’d ever known, and she realized this was Stephen’s secret gift:
She had the means to create her own gateway, to escape the Netherworld.
In that timeless moment, she turned her attention inward, furiously seeking the presence of Stephen Chappell. She found it when his silent voice came: What are you waiting for, Diana? GO!
Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep this secret?
Because you would have attempted to use the skill before you met Asmodeus, if not for yourself, then for your companions.
Diana’s anger intensified. And what if I had? Yi-kin might be dead by now, and I could have kept Mina alive—
Like the bullet, Diana, we could only grant you a single use.
She bit her tongue, realizing its truth. Had she known, she would have sent Yi-kin and Mina back. And maybe even herself.
Then the moment unfroze, and Diana spotted a door on one end of the stone room, and she charged for it.
Diana, no—!
I won’t leave Yi-kin.
Hob was kneeling beside his fallen lord, and in his disbelief he ignored her as she fled the chamber through the side door. Diana found herself in a long, plain hallway, with closed doors set into the stone walls at intervals. She ran to an intersection, and realized she had absolutely no idea of where to go. This palace might go on for miles; there could be countless rooms, Yi-kin could be in any, or all of them….
And then she heard it: A distant, plaintive mewling.
At first she couldn’t be sure whether it was mortal or demon, but she ran to it anyway; she had nothing else to guide her. She turned another corner, and the sound was clearer now; she realized it was neither human nor demon, but animal.
Feline, in fact.
“Mina—!” she panted with anxiety.
She kept running, and although she heard the small voice more clearly with each step, there were other sounds now as well: Shouts, shrieks, commands, curses, orders, lumbering feet and hooves.
Asmodeus’s assassination had been discovered, and the unholy soldiers mobilized.
She came to another intersection and hesitated, waiting for Mina’s call again. She heard the other sounds coming from the left, and then she saw a mass of armored and armed guards turn the corner, spot her, and rush towards her. They were more of the boarmen she’d seen outside; they gnashed their tusks now and waved weapons as they rushed her.
The one in front shot at her.
She barely ducked back in time—and then heard Mina again, coming from the other direction. She took a deep breath and ran, hearing more shots behind her, shots which ricocheted around the narrow corridor.
A few paces brought her to another corner—and there was Mina, sitting a dozen yards away, before a bolted door, plainly looking at the door and uttering that desperate cry.
And Diana knew Yi-kin was behind it.
The boarmen couldn’t be more than thirty yards behind her as she reached the door. In one swift action she scooped up Mina, unbolted the door, and leapt through, heaving the door shut behind her.
She might have just stepped into a long-forgotten Buddhist temple somewhere in China. The wooden floors and walls were covered with dust and cobwebs; a splintered dais held a decapitated statue of the Buddha. The decrepit room was lit only by moonlight entering through cracks in the ceiling.
And Yi-kin was launching a potentially lethal blow at her head.
She saw it just before it connected, and managed to duck. “It’s me, Yi-kin!” she cried, as she dodged to one side.
He hesitated, maintaining his fighting stance, eyeing her suspiciously, and Diana realized that he saw a mad-looking creature covered in drying blood. “And Mina,” she said, thrusting the cat forward.
Yi-kin took the cat. “Diana…?”
“Hai ngoh,” she answered, and something in her pronunciation brought a welcome relief to his face.
Outside she heard her pursuers hammering the door, and she let Stephen’s presence wash through her being. Later, she wouldn’t be able to recall what she’d said or done, the motions made or the words uttered, but in seconds a gateway shimmered in the air before her.
“What—?” Yi-kin started to ask, but just then the door burst inward and the boarmen pushed in.
“Hui ma!” Diana shouted, pushing Yi-kin (with Mina) bodily through, before following.
Diana had an instant only to register that they were in a cellar or basement—before the first boarman followed them through. Yi-kin tossed Mina to Diana, and whirled into action, raining a devastating series of kicks and blows that propelled the invader backward to crash into the others attempting to come through. The force of Yi-kin’s attack pushed the boarmen back in a cascade that toppled half-a-dozen of them, but others were heedlessly tromping over their fallen brethren in an effort to overwhelm the gateway.
“Siu jeh—!” Yi-kin shouted.
Diana dropped Mina and drew the knife from her belt. Yi-kin was already aiming a flying kick at the latest invader as Diana tore the sleeve up from her left wrist, made a quick slice, and cried out, “By my will and by my blood is this gateway sealed FOREVER!”
She flung her bloodied arm outward, and cast away the bloodied knife as well, just as Yi-kin knocked the latest boarman back through the gateway—and then they were looking at nothing but an earthen cellar wall.
The gateway was closed, and they had escaped the Netherworld.
Chapter XXX
November 11, 1880
Derby
They had staggered briefly about the large cellar (which, from the amount of wine racks and kegs, seemed to belong to a pub) until they found stairs leading upward. they found themselves in a kitchen, which was fortunately empty as they stepped out. Dull light entered through some grimy windows, and they realized it must be early afternoon…wherever they were.
There was a sink and water in the kitchen, and Diana paused long enough to scrub the worst of the blood (William’s blood, some part of her whispered, but she wouldn’t listen to that part yet) from her face and arms. Then they walked out into the pub, and found a single barmaid wiping down the bar. She gaped at them for a second, before exclaiming in a thick working-class accent, “’Ere now, where d’ye think you’re goin’? The kitchen’s off limits—”
“Sorry,” Diana answered, “we got lost. We’re new to this city—”
The barmaid laughed in disbelief. “’Ow can ye be new to London?”
We’re in London. That’s good to know, Diana thought, before asking the question she most dreaded.
“Can you tell me the date?”
The barmaid had had enough. “I think it’s time for ye to leave. Go on, now, don’ make me ave t’ call the bobby….”
“We’re going. Thank you.”
They left the pub, and exited onto a filthy London street, one occu
pied by ragged, homeless urchins, staggering drunks and unhealthy looking prostitutes…and Diana could still have fallen to her knees in gratitude.
Mina cried, and Yi-kin set her down; she was evidently as happy as Diana to be back on home soil, and she ran off in pursuit of a juicy rat. “It does not look different,” Yi-kin observed.
If this is the future, then perhaps progress really did die, Diana thought, but pushed that to the back of her mind, to be dealt with later. Right now she had to know when they were.
She spotted a boy selling papers, and tossed him a coin. He handed over a newspaper, and Diana grabbed it hungrily, her eyes seeking the date. When she’d found it, she looked up at Yi-kin, grinning.
“What?” he asked anxiously.
She turned the paper around to show him as she read aloud the date. “November first, eighteen-eighty.”
Yi-kin took the paper, confused. “But…time….”
She wasn’t sure whether she should thank Stephen or accept that time ran at various speeds throughout the Netherworld. Either way, all that mattered was that they were in their own world, and their own time.
Later that same day, safely ensconced in her London apartments, she’d taken a second hot bath (the first had turned the water crimson), and had finally let herself weep.
And afterwards she knew she could accept the truth that William was really gone.
The next day she asked Yi-kin what had happened to him in the room that had looked like a deserted temple.
He said he would never tell anyone. And she didn’t ask again.
On November 5, nearly recovered (although her badly burned left hand was still swathed in bandages) and distracted by the antics of young Guy Fawkes Day beggars, they were making plans to return to the Derby estate when Yi-kin told Diana he wouldn’t be going with her. He wanted to return to China.
He assured her he’d be back, that he only wanted to see his sister; but Diana knew his visit had something to do with what he’d endured in that Netherworld cell, and she feared she might never see him again.